Title: A Lack of Color, Chapter 21
Author: kevo
Pairing: Harry. Cedric. Yeah.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to these characters or the series they're from.
Summary: In his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry falls for fellow Hogwarts student and Triwizard champion, Cedric Diggory. (Goblet of Fire canon re-write)
The Love So Green Collection
Playlist #1:
a lack of color
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"Without Love"
The next morning, when Harry woke up, he remembered the events of the night before. He then rolled over and wished he never had to wake up again.
Everything from after he left Cedric freezing and heartbroken behind the greenhouses was a bit foggy. Somehow he'd gotten all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower. Somehow he made it to his room, and into bed. And somehow he'd fallen asleep, although that he was the most baffled by. He fully expected to be tossing and turning all night with regret and shame. On the contrary, it was like he had fallen into a sort of guilt-induced coma.
Now that he was awake, however, the reality of what had transpired was beginning to sink in.
"I don't understand," Cedric's voice rang in Harry's ears, battered and broken, "what did I do?"
The words cut into Harry like a knife. All of Cedric's accusations and pleas played over and over in his head. They were a nightmarish soundtrack stuck on repeat, until the sound of the dormitory's door opening broke their echo.
"Hey, you awake?" someone asked from the doorway. "Harry?"
Ron.
Harry could recognize his voice, of course. But he sounded miles and miles away through the blaring sound of Cedric's sobs, still playing in his mind. Harry tried to respond, but his jaw felt like it was glued shit. And even if he could open it, his throat was refusing to work.
"It's almost lunch, mate," Ron said impatiently. "You've been in bed all morning."
Had he?
Time didn't seem real to Harry. Everything was all jumbled. His first night out with Cedric felt like it was years and years ago, even though it'd only been two months. Yet their first encounter, in the hospital wing, the first time Cedric squeezed Harry's hand and smiled at him, suddenly felt as recent and vivid as the memory of Cedric falling apart as he discovered why Harry called him behind the greenhouses.
Soon Ron gave up, and turned back out of the dormitory. A few minutes later, or maybe hours as far as Harry knew, he returned with Hermione in tow. She swept around his bed and knelt beside him. Ron remained standing at a distance.
"Harry?" she said. "Are you all right?"
Harry shook his head. He didn't want to, didn't want to move, didn't want to think, didn't want to give any sort of response. He wanted to simply lie there, immobile, for about a week. But he knew it was rude not to answer, and that she would keep asking if he didn't respond.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. "Are you sick?"
"He was out behind the greenhouses last night," Ron supplied. "With, y'know, Cedric."
"That was a stupid thing to do, it's freezing outside at night." She felt Harry's face. "You don't seem to have a temperature."
Reluctantly, Harry mumbled, "'m not sick." And even that took more than the usual bit of effort.
"Well, something's wrong," Hermione insisted. "Why don't you just tell us? Maybe we could help. Why didn't you meet in the Room of Requirement anyway?"
"Couldn't," Harry mustered.
"Did something happen last night?"
She brushed Harry's bangs off of his forehead. Her fingers grazed the spot that Cedric had kissed in greeting the night before. Something about the gesture broke a dam inside of Harry.
"We broke up," he confessed.
The words spiraled in Harry's mind. They sank deeper and deeper into his heart. He wished he hadn't said them because saying them, out loud, to his closest friends, made it more real than ever before.
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she gave a tiny gasp of shock. Ron barely reacted at all, except to look away. Hermione frowned sympathetically.
"Are you – well, no, of course you're not okay," Hermione gathered. She straightened up and cleared her throat. "All right. All right, you just- just stay up here, that's fine. We'll bring you up some food. I'm going to take care of your homework this weekend, so don't worry about that. You take the next two days to… do whatever it is you need to do, all right?"
Harry stared up at his friend. Her eyes were slightly teary, but her voice was strong, reassuring. She was being kind of supportive that she was when she told Harry she loved him after he came out to her. For the first time in days, Harry felt the slightest bit at ease.
"Thank you," he said, in a voice barely above a whisper.
"You're welcome," Hermione replied.
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Then she headed back toward the stairs, giving Ron a significant look, clearly communicating that he was to follow her. And he did, frowning.
"How come you'll do homework for him and not me?" he groused.
"Get your heart broken and I'll do your homework," Hermione retorted.
Back across the room, Harry's heart lightened at the familiar sound of his friends bickering. He didn't smile, and still didn't feel like he'd be smiling again anytime soon. Even so, Harry's spirits lifted a fraction.
O O O O O O O
For the next day and a half, Harry lay alone with his thoughts. Neither Ron nor even Hermione pressed him for further details about his break up. Ron got Neville, Dean and Seamus to clear out for the most part during the day so Harry wouldn't have to face them in his current state. Hermione brought him food and insisted that he eat it. Harry ate enough to satisfy her so she would leave, then threw out the rest.
News of his isolation spread within Gryffindor. That much was inevitable. Ron and Hermione had most people convinced that it had to do with stress from the tournament. It kept them from trying to peak in on him, allowing Harry to brood in peace.
At least until late Sunday afternoon when, to Harry's surprise, a visitor entered his dorm.
"Hello, Harry," the boy greeted him.
Harry managed a sigh.
"Fred, if you're here to cheer me up or something, there's no point," he warned.
"I'm not," Fred assured him.
Fred crossed the dormitory, slowly, casually. He sat at the foot of Harry's bed without asking permission. Harry wanted to ask him to go away, but he didn't. He could brood with someone in the room just as well as without.
"So what happened, eh?" Fred asked suddenly. "You two have a fight?"
"Sorry?" Harry replied, confused.
"You and Diggory," Fred clarified.
Harry's empty stomach clenched.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.
"Oh, come on, Harry," Fred replied. "Don't try to play a player."
Harry regarded Fred. He looked more sincere than Harry had ever seen him. Whether it was because of the seriousness of the Weasley twin's expression or simply because of sheer emotional exhaustion, Harry couldn't muster the energy to lie anymore.
"We broke up," Harry answered. "We… I broke up with him."
Fred's eyebrows raised a fraction.
"Ouch," he said. "I'm sorry to hear that." He turned his eyes away from Harry's, smirking. "Too bad, too. I always thought Diggory was hot. I didn't know he played for our team, though, until, well… Until you two happened."
Harry stared.
"Wa- what?" he asked, baffled. "What do you mean, 'our team'? Because you're not… I mean you can't be…"
Fred smiled.
"Can't be what?" he wondered. "Queer as a wooden Galleon?"
"Are you?"
"So what if I am?" Fred shot back.
"Nothing," Harry replied. "Just… I never knew. I mean, I'd never've known." A thought occurred to him. "But didn't you take Angelina to the Ball?"
"Well, I had to take a girl, didn't I?" Fred answered. "Besides, she knows."
"Does George?" Harry asked.
"Of course he does," Fred laughed. "Like I could keep it a secret from him. George was the first person I came out to. He thinks it's great. Says he doesn't have to worry about competition from me with the girls anymore."
"I had no idea," Harry marveled.
He felt a little embarrassed about how amazed he must've sounded, but he couldn't help himself.
"I'm a little surprised none of you lot ever figured it out," Fred told him. "I'm basically out to every Gryffindor in my year, and loads more people beyond that. I thought gossip spread more quickly than that."
"Wait, you're out?"
"To some people, yeah," Fred replied. "It's not like I post fliers about it, it's just… understood, y'know? Mum and Dad don't know yet, or anyone else in my family. Except Bill. I knew he'd be cool with it."
For the second time that weekend, Harry felt as though his world had been turned upside-down. He really thought he was coming to understand things, about himself, about homosexuality. But he hadn't even had the slightest inkling that Fred was gay, let alone that there were students at Hogwarts who knew about him and were clearly fine with it.
"Have you…" Harry swallowed, a bit sheepish to ask his next question. "I mean, have you ever… been with another guy?"
"Loads," Fred responded breezily. "Ooh, that does make me sound like a slut. Scratch that. Forget I said that. Not loads. But… enough." He looked cagily at Harry. "Enough to recognize that you and Diggory were the real thing, anyway."
Harry shrugged.
"I dunno."
"Well, don't worry about it," Fred advised. "Hogwarts is teeming with gay blokes, and more than you'd think. Even in your year! There's this Ravenclaw kid, Corner? Total bottom."
"But I don't really want another bloke," Harry insisted, ignoring Fred's comment. "…I still love Cedric."
"Then why'd you dump him?" Fred inquired.
"It was getting…" Harry struggled to find the right words. "I mean, I'm only fourteen."
"So?"
"So!" Harry echoed. "I'm… I'm too young to be in love. I've got years and years left. At least I hope so. And I'm not ready for all of it, being with someone, being out, I can't do it."
"Okay," Fred interrupted, "I'm gonna stop you, because you sound really stupid right now. Harry, if you're in love, you just are. Don't go worrying about being too young, because you could have a hundred years left or maybe not even six months. The point is to make the most of what you know you've got. And as for, well, being out… It's scary, sure. Being gay is more socially acceptable now than ever before, but that doesn't make it any easier for the likes of you and me. And you don't need to feel guilty about not being ready for it. You got that?"
"Yeah, I guess," Harry said. He smiled the tiniest of smiles. "So you think Cedric's hot? I thought you hated him because he beat us at Quidditch last year."
"My feelings on the pitch have no bearing on my libido off it," Fred grinned. "I've been very jealous. Of both of you, for that matter," he added, poking Harry in the stomach. It growled angrily at the provocation.
He looked hesitantly at Harry, then bent forward and kissed the younger boy on the cheek.
"You're going to be fine, Harry," Fred assured him.
"Thanks, Fred," Harry replied gratefully.
Fred nodded, rising from the bed.
"Do me a favor, though?" he asked. "Don't tell Ron about me."
"He knows about me," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, and how well did he take that?" Fred argued.
"Fair enough," Harry answered.
"And have something to eat, will you?" Fred ordered, turning toward the door. "Starving yourself to death won't help."
"Hey, Fred?" Harry said. The Weasley boy stopped, looked back and waited. "How do you know?" he asked finally."When you're ready to be out and all that."
Fred sighed.
"As soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know."
With a wink and a heartfelt smile, Fred left Harry alone once more. Thinking about Fred's words of encouragement, Harry felt, for the first time all weekend, the smallest bit of hope.
O O O O O O O
Monday morning was the first time Harry ventured out of the Gryffindor Tower since returning there from breaking up with Cedric. Fred's visit had done wonders to invigorate him, but he still wasn't ready to face the outside world until he absolutely had to. Hermione had, rightfully, insisted that he shower Sunday night. She also, unfortunately, and despite Harry's protests that he would be fine on his own, made Ron supervise, which he did with his back to the showers and under extreme duress.
It was a bit shaky, walking down to the Great Hall. Harry kept thinking every student who glanced his way knew about him and Cedric and what had happened. But that was, of course, impossible. As he choked down the oatmeal Hermione had put firmly in front of him, Harry's apprehension slowly started to drain away.
Then, as he made his way across the entrance hall to get to class, he encountered Cho. And she slapped him across the face. Hard.
"Fuck you, Harry Potter!" she said in a voice cold as steel. "Just - fuck you!"
All the students around them stopped and stared as Cho marched off in a huff. Several people tittered, and a few 'ooh'ed. Harry stood there, stunned. Ron and Hermione came up beside him, looking just as shocked. Harry turned to Hermione.
"Can I please go back up to my room now?"
Hermione shook her head sadly.
"You can't hide forever, Harry," she told him.
Harry swallowed a hard lump in his throat. She was right. He couldn't run away. He was just going to have to endure it.
O O O O O O O
The next several days were nothing but a blur to Harry. They were all full of schoolwork and working out how to breathe underwater. He saw Cedric rarely, and when he did he had the distinct impression that Cedric was purposely not looking at him.
Then, six days before the second task, Harry ran, almost literally, into Cedric, in the hallway after dinner. Upon realizing who he'd almost knocked into, Harry froze. They both did, gazes locked. Harry searched for something to say, anything, but his voice was frozen with the rest of him. It was Cedric who spoke first.
"How've you been?" he asked, voice hollow.
"Cho slapped me," Harry blurted out. He felt like a tattle for saying that but it was the first thing to come out.
"Sorry about that," Cedric said, sounding the most insincere Harry'd ever heard him be.
"Yeah, that's… that's okay," Harry said. "I've mostly been working on the whole breathing underwater thing. Not too successful so far. I'm kind of freaking out about it." He hesitated before asking, "How're you holding up?"
"I'm not."
Those few words carried a lot of weight. They were meant to crush him, Harry knew, and they did. He wanted to say something. The silence was killing him.
"I'm sorry –" Harry began.
"Don't," Cedric interrupted.
It was both a plea and a warning.
"Okay."
Awkward silence fell once more. It only served to remind Harry of a time when neither of them could shut up for want of getting to know each other better. And now…
"I have to go," Cedric said abruptly.
He stalked off before Harry had a chance to respond.
And for the hundredth time since he'd done it, Harry asked himself: if being apart from Cedric hurt him so much, why did he break up with him?
End Notes: Thanks for sticking with us. Next chapter's longer. -kevo